


I try to picture me without you but I can't

by alinedel05



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: First Time, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 14:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3212570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alinedel05/pseuds/alinedel05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick can't get the words to Immortals right whenever they perform it live. Pete finds a way to make sure Patrick will never forget them again.</p><p>Inspired by this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a02ws0hU9uc</p>
            </blockquote>





	I try to picture me without you but I can't

**Author's Note:**

> Not a native English speaker, so forgive me for any mistakes you might find. It's only my second Peterick fic. Comments and kudos are always appreciated, hope you enjoy this. :)

One of the things Patrick hated the most was messing up lyrics during live performances, and Immortals was proving to be an impossible task. Sure he would joke about it with the audience, but deep down inside it really hurt him. 

He was back at his hotel room after performing at Jimmy Kimmel’s and he was feeling miserable. He was pacing back and forth, cell phone in hand, weighing all the pros and cons of calling Pete, who was staying just a couple of floors above him. Just the thought of dialing Pete’s number made his hands tremble. He couldn’t help thinking Pete was utterly mad at him for messing up the lyrics, again. And this time, it was even worse, since he had threw in a verse from another song from the album that hadn’t even been released yet. 

“Fuck, I messed up big time, how could I’ve been so stupid?” He kept thinking to himself.

After what felt like hours, but were just some minutes, Patrick finally compromised. He decided to text Pete, thinking that maybe Pete would just yell at him by text, which was much easier to deal with.

Patrick typed and deleted words several times. “I hope you can forgive me…” “I can’t say how sorry I am…” “Please forgive me Pete…” “I promise it won’t happen again…” 

“No, no, it has to be something more straightforward, but what can I say?” Patrick said. “Hum, maybe a simple sorry and a sad emoticon will do…”

So he typed ‘Sorry :(‘ and held his breath as he hit the send button. He stared at the screen for a couple of minutes, hoping Pete’s reply would come immediately. After 5 minutes he gave up and sighed, as he put his phone away. 

Meanwhile, two floors above, Pete was just coming out of the shower, his hair dripping wet and a towel wrapped around his waist. He took his phone from the bedside table to check the time and that was when he saw he had a new text… from Patrick.

Pete frowned because Patrick was never the one to send texts, especially since they were together about half an hour ago, sharing a cab with Joe and Andy from the talk show studio to the hotel. After he read the text, the whole situation just got more and more weird. Pete couldn’t understand what the hell Patrick was sorry for, as he contemplated the events of the day and the days before, trying to remember something that Patrick could have done that would have made him upset.

After getting a headache from overthinking, he gave up.

‘Sorry for what?’ Pete texted back.

Patrick’s heart nearly skipped a beat as his phone buzzed. He couldn’t understand why Pete was being evasive (when actually the one being evasive was himself). 

‘Sorry for what? What does that mean?’ ‘Did I make Pete even more mad?’ ‘Fuck, I can’t believe I messed this up even more.’ Those were the thoughts racing through Patrick’s mind.

But he needed to answer something, what could he possibly say? 

‘Never mind.’ Patrick texted, as he began to think that maybe texting had been a terrible idea.

‘Trick, what is it? Tell me.’ Pete’s reply came immediately and it sounded a bit concerned.

‘You know what it is.’

‘I don’t. Please Patrick, explain.’

After sending this last text and not getting an answer for 10 minutes, Pete decided to go to Patrick’s room. He only realized he hadn’t gotten dressed yet when he was nearly out of his room. He grabbed the first pair of shorts he could find and put them on, not even bothering with shirt and shoes.

He knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” Patrick’s voice was strange, trying to sound like he wasn’t crying, but failing miserably.

“It’s me Patrick, open up.” Pete’s voice was urgent, full of concern and worry.

Patrick opened the door, gazing at his shoes and not daring to make eye contact with Pete.

Pete closed the door behind him and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Patrick’s room was completely trashed, as if a hurricane had just gone by. 

“Patrick, what the fuck have you done?”

Pete kept scanning the room and when he saw a broken mirror, his eyes immediately went to Patrick’s hands and sure enough, his right one was bleeding.

“Shit.” Pete said.

He quickly rushed to the bathroom and got a clean towel, running warm water from the sink over it. He ran back to where Patrick was, still by the door, staring at the floor. 

“Trick, look at me.” Pete said as he placed his hand under Patrick’s chin and forced him to meet his eyes.

“I, I don’t want you to see me like this Pete.” Patrick finally spoke.

Patrick had indeed been crying, he had bloodshot eyes and tear tracks all over his cheeks. Pete gently wrapped Patrick’s bruised hand on the towel as he guided the broken man to sit on the edge of the bed. 

They didn’t say a thing. Pete just pressed the towel to stop the bleeding as fast as he could as he ran his other hand through Patrick’s face, drying away his tears. 

When Pete removed the towel and saw that the bleeding had stopped somewhat, he took Patrick to the bathroom and placed his hand under cold water from the sink to wash away any dry blood remains. He also ran wet fingers all over Patrick’s face, removing what was left of the tear tracks. Patrick couldn’t bear to stare at the mirror.

As they got back to the bedroom, Pete took off Patrick’s hat and jacket and thought:

‘Heck, he’s still wearing the same clothes from earlier, this is probably serious’. Patrick was always the first to take a shower and change clothes after performing because he perspired too much when he was onstage. 

Pete got down on his knees as he untied and took off Patrick’s boots and socks. 

They sat side by side on the edge of the bed and after the adrenaline began to leave Pete’s body, he finally asked:

“So, are you going to explain what the fuck is this all about?” His tone and word use were more harsh than he had intended.

“I’m sorry Pete, I’m so sorry.” Patrick’s voice was breaking, as if he was about to start crying again.

“I know, you’ve said that already. What are you so sorry for man? I have no clue.” Pete said, trying to sound more gentle.

When Patrick didn’t answer, Pete got Patrick’s uninjured hand in both of his and lightly brushed a thumb on the back of it.

“Hey, Patrick, it’s me, come on. You know you can open up to me. Look at me, tell me what’s wrong.” Pete’s voice was soothing, almost a whisper. 

Patrick finally looked into Pete’s eyes, a sorrowful look on his face. The ever changing color of his eyes going from blue to green, his cheeks getting flushed as was his nose. All in all, he looked really upset. The last time Pete remembered seeing Patrick this way was when they were trying to get the band back together and they would have this deep heart to heart talks about all that had gone wrong before the hiatus, bringing very bad memories back to Patrick’s mind.

“It’s the lyrics Pete, the fucking lyrics again that I just can’t get right, not a single damn time.” Patrick said with an angry and broken voice as tears began to swell on his eyes again.

He went on. “It’s not the first time that I fuck this up, I’m tired of never getting it right. Did you see what I did today, I fucking sang the verse of Irresistible, shit that hasn’t even been released yet. People are going to ask questions Pete. What am I supposed to say?”

“Shh, calm down Trick. I feel like such an idiot for not realizing it before. I’m the one who has to be sorry, I had no idea it was getting on your nerves, you even joked about it on stage that time we played it acoustic. We could’ve talked about this earlier.”

Patrick rested his head on Pete’s shoulder and began to sob again. Pete could feel the tears on his bare skin and it broke him apart. He hated seeing his best friend like this and he was terrible at fixing this kind of stuff. He always expected people to be there for him when he had something on his mind, but he sucked at doing the same for others. But this was Patrick, the one person he cared about the most in life, he had to make this right.

Pete gently removed Patrick’s head from his shoulder as he sat in the middle of the bed with his back against the headboard and spread his legs on the comfortable mattress. He patted the empty space by his left side and then patted his lap. Patrick understood immediately, and he laid down on his right side, placing his head on Pete’s lap. The older man reassuringly ran his fingers through the soft blond strands of hair and put his other arm on Patrick’s chest, holding him protectively and feeling Patrick’s hurried heart beats against his arm.

“Keep talking to me Patrick. Come on, let it all out.” Pete said when he felt Patrick’s body was comfortable enough against him.

“I’m tired of making a fool of myself in front of everyone Pete. That talk show tonight, everyone was watching it and I fucked it up. It could’ve been even worse, those two songs have nothing to do with each other, I had to make things up as I went along so I wouldn’t get off the beat. There are probably hundreds of tweets already asking us about it.”

Pete spoke with a comforting voice as he kept running his fingers on Patrick’s hair. “First of all stop worrying about making a fool of yourself, get those thoughts out of your head ‘cause they’re just not true. Everybody gets things wrong sometimes. It’s completely normal that you’re struggling with Immortals, it’s a brand new song.”

“But,…” Patrick was interrupted even before he began.

“No buts, I don’t wanna hear you putting yourself down. You have no idea how amazing you sound, how powerful that voice of yours is. I could hear you sing forever and never get tired of it. Getting the words right is just a small detail. You sounded great and you have to realize that.”

Patrick blushed at the unexpected compliment as he readjusted his head on Pete’s lap.

“What about the fans? What are we gonna say?” Patrick said in between crying hiccups.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. I’ll say you just sang a different version of the song by mistake. It’ll be fine.” Pete said as he kept one hand stroking Patrick’s hair and absentmindedly lifted Patrick’s shirt with his other one, setting it on Patrick’s stomach, rubbing it and playing around with Patrick’s belly button. The younger man let out a little moan.

“Thanks for doing this for me Pete. I owe you one.”

“Just breathe and calm down. I’m always here for you and I’ll always be.”

Patrick’s heart beat began to slow down as did his breathing.

“I have to find a way to get this song right Pete, I can’t keep messing it up forever.” Patrick said after a few moments.

“I think you’re trying to memorize it and it’d make more sense if you understood it verse by verse. I have an idea. Let’s do this together, ok?”

“Hum, ok.” Patrick said unsurely as he laid on his back, so he could look into the older man’s eyes and crossed his arms on his chest but kept his head still on Pete’s lap.

Pete kept stroking Patrick’s hair but now his other hand rested on the bare pale skin of Patrick’s hips, his shirt still lifted and his stomach exposed. 

“I need you to try to remember the first verse and sing it to me.” Pete asked.

Patrick let his mind wonder but the right words just didn’t seem to come to him. 

“I just can’t remember it Pete.” He said, pouting his lips like a child and closing his eyes in defeat.

“Let me help you then. What do critics and media always say about us?” Pete asked.

“Oh! They say we are who we are.”

“But?”

”We don’t have to be.”

“See, you got the first one, let’s keep doing this. Alright, second verse. When you think of the image everyone has of me, what comes to your mind?”

“Bad behavior…. Hum, I know it now! I’m bad behavior but I do it in the best way. So you meant to say that even though you look and act in a bad way, your intentions are pure.”

“Exactly.” Pete said with a smile on his face because this was actually working.

“Now, this is the part that always confuses me the most.” Patrick said.

“Think of me as the watcher and you as the guard dog. Do you know what the eternal flame is?”

“Yeah, but did you mean it literally? Things are never literal on your lyrics Pete Wentz, I know you better.” Patrick said jokingly as he lightly pinched Pete’s arm that was still resting on his hips.

“Ok you got me. The eternal flame means our friendship. I want to watch it forever to make sure it never dies down.”

“Awww Pete, I can’t believe you actually wrote that thinking about us.” Patrick said, blushing and running a hand on Pete’s cheek.

“And the fever dreams would be my nightmares. You know how I always run to you when I have bad dreams?”

“Uhum.” Patrick hummed in agreement.

“Well, that’s kind of what I meant, you as my guard dog, every time something goes wrong, you’re here for me, no matter what.”

Patrick just kept blushing more and more.

“So, sing those two verses for me then, Trick.”

“I’ll be the watcher of the eternal flame. I’ll be the guard dog of all your fevered dreams.” Patrick closed his eyes while he sang it.

“See, I knew you could do this. Just remember what I said when you sing it and it should stop you from forgetting it.”

“They say we are who we are, but we don’t have to be. I’m bad behavior but I do it in the best way. I’ll be the watcher of the eternal flame. I’ll be the guard dog of all your fevered dreams.” Patrick sang again, never taking his eyes away from Pete’s.

He sat up and let his lips brush against Pete’s. It was the best way he could think of thanking him. The older man opened his mouth a little to let Patrick in as they shared a light and soft kiss. Their first kiss ever. Whatever that meant wasn’t going to be discussed now, because for now all Patrick and Pete wanted was to stay like this, close.

Pete laid down and rested his head on a couple of pillows as Patrick put his head on Pete’s chest, listening to Pete’s heart beats on his ear. And they fell asleep this way.

And sure enough, from that day on, all Patrick had to do was remember Pete’s clues and he never got the words to Immortals wrong again.


End file.
